When people talk about LesMisérables it’s rare that they’re talking about Victor Hugo’s 1862 novel. Embarrassingly enough, until I was fifteen, I didn’t know that it was a book at all. I did, however, know a good bit about the musical from one of my childhood best friends, Julia. She was obsessed with it and every year her parents took her to New York City to see it. Julia was the ultimate girly-girl and her bedroom was absolutely fascinating to me—-all floral country bedding and lacy bed-skirts—it was nothing like the bedroom I shared with my sisters, my corner of which was covered in reproductions of antique baseball cards that I had bought at Bop City Comics and stuck to the wall with my older sister’s braces wax.

The centerpiece of Julia’s bedroom was her most prized possession: a dome-shaped glass music box filled with fiber-optic flowers that spit light like some kind of deep-sea amoeba and swayed to “Castle on a Cloud” when she turned the dome’s big iron crank (and she, of course, was the only one who was allowed turn it). I hated that thing and wanted it, needed it, in equal measure, it tortured me.

Years later, my aunt gave me a beautiful copy of LesMisérables as a fifteenth birthday gift and I learned for the first time that it wasn’t just a musical but a book—an enormous and very serious-looking book—one that looked nothing like the inspiration for Julia’s dome of flowers or the precious song that emanated from it. I tore through the book in a week and a half, staying up late and neglecting my freshman year assigned reading to find out whom Marius would end up with. I loved Jean Valjean through all of his transformations and missteps, going so far as to scribble his name inside of a heart in the bathroom stall at school where every girl wrote the initials of her crush in ragged ballpoint pen (I feel very raw admitting this).

Despite my love of the book, I still have yet to ever see the play, and as of now still haven’t gone to see the movie. It could be that the play will always be too much associated with Julia’s girliness, or that in general I despise musicals (which could, at its root, also stem from Julia), but since Christmas, every time I am about to buy a ticket to go and see the movie, I just can’t bring myself to do it. The constant loop of the movie’s trailer on TV and the barrage of posters in every subway did fill me with the desire to read the book again, though—a decision that immediately thwarted my New Year’s resolution to eat less bread in 2013.

Any post about food in LesMisérables, or really any post about LesMisérables in general, would be incomplete without the mention of bread. The entire plot of the novel is driven by Jean Valjean’s nineteen-year imprisonment for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his starving family. The French Revolution is always quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) present in the novel, which mostly takes place in 1815, only 15 years after Marie Antoinette reportedly declared “Qu’ils mangent de la brioche” upon hearing that the peasants had no bread to eat. Throughout the novel, people’s stations and the direness of their situations are often described in reference to whether or not they have bread, or, more specifically, what kind of bread they do have.

When we first meet Jean Valjean he has just been released from prison, and he is wandering through Digne starving after being turned away from every inn and household for being an ex-prisoner. Finally, he is sent to the Bishop Myriel’s house, where he is given one of my most favorite literary meals.

“The supper consisted of a piece of mutton, figs, a fresh cheese, and a loaf of rye bread. She had herself added a bottle of old Mauves wine.”

The meal is beautiful in its simplicity, and especially satisfying after reading pages and pages describing Valjean’s desperate hunger.

Black rye bread was especially prevalent throughout France at the time LesMisérables was written, it was a staple for lower and middle class people alike, and was one of the main foods provided in prisons like the one Valjean lived in for nineteen years. This black rye is nothing like what Valjean would have eaten in prison, it is sweet and bitter and complex and incredibly delicious. I ate mine with a stinky soft cheese and figs for extra literary meal authenticity, but feel free to top it with whatever you like. It would be great with cream cheese and lox, or honey and butter, or even some almond or cashew butter–really, I can’t think of anything that it wouldn’t compliment, go nuts!

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Les Miserables Black Rye BreadIngredients:

2 ¼ teaspoons active dry yeast (usually 1 packet’s worth)

1 1/3 cups warm water (110 F)

1 teaspoon dark brown sugar

2 tablespoons cocoa powder

2 tablespoons finely ground espresso beans or instant espresso powder

1/4 cup dark molasses

6 teaspoons caraway seeds, plus more for topping

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 teaspoons fine grain sea salt

1 1/3 cup rye flour

3 ¼ cup bread flour plus more for dusting

olive oil for brushing

flaky sea salt for sprinkling on top

Directions:

Place your yeast in a small bowl and combine it with dark brown sugar and 1 1/3 of your warm water to activate it. Within about 5 minutes the yeast should be foamy—if it isn’t, toss it and start again (you had a dud yeast packet). While you are waiting for the yeast to activate, combine your cocoa powder, espresso, molasses, caraway seeds, butter and salt in a medium saucepan and stir constantly over medium heat until butter is melted and ingredients are well-combined. Add molasses mixture to active yeast mixture (molasses mixture should be warm, not scorching hot when you do this), and pour into a mixing bowl fitted with a bread hook attachment. In a separate bowl mix rye and bread flour together and with your mixer running, slowly add flour to molasses/yeast mixture. One everything comes together knead the dough for 5 minutes or until dough is pulling away from the sides of the bowl and hugging the bread hook—dough should also spring back when you poke your thumb into it. If it is too dry, add more water, or if it is too wet add more flour, until you get the desired consistency. Shape the dough into a ball and place seam-side down in an oiled bowl. Cover loosely with a towel and let it rise for 2 hours in a warm place.

After 2 hours, punch down the risen dough with your fist gently (yes, I said punch it gently), and turn it out onto a floured surface. Shape the dough into your desired shape, place it in your dutch oven (or any heavy-bottomed, oven-safe dish with a lid) and allow it to rise for another 1-2 hours, or until doubled in size. Once it is doubled in size, turn your oven to 425, brush the bread with olive oil, sprinkle it with caraway seeds and sea salt. When your oven is up to temp, place bread in and bake for 20 minutes with the lid on. After 20 minutes remove the lid and turn the heat down to 350, bake for another 20-25 minutes. Top with whatever you like and enjoy!

Thanks Irena! I used my big cast iron dutch oven, which I highly recommend for bread-baking. Leaving the lid on for the first 20 minutes or so steams it a little bit and gives its a great crust that you can actually hear crackling when you take it out of the oven!

Oh my gosh, rye bread is my favorite! I have never thought to make it from scratch because we have an amazing deli down the street that sells it fresh, but you make it look so easy I think I have to try it!

I know, me neither! New York is the land of amazing Jewish delis so I’ve gotten spoiled when it comes to my rye and challah bread. This one is worth making though, if only to prove to yourself that you can do it as well as your neighborhood deli!

Yes you can absolutely use all purpose flour instead of bread flour as a 1:1 substitution. Bread flour has a high gluten content–around 14%, while all-purpose flour is around 10% (cake flour is around 6%). The higher gluten makes the flour ideal for bread because it creates a more structured dough that will rise higher, but the difference isn’t major. Try letting the dough rise an hour longer each time, or adding an extra 1/2 teaspoon of yeast to make it less dense and let me know how it works out!

Chandra, I understand. That was one of my top resolutions too, probably because I ate an ENTIRE LOAF of sourdough bread on New Years Eve (the things we admit on the internet…) Thankfully this bread isn’t THAT bad for you, if you want to up the rye flour and cut some of the bread flour out you can–it’s got tons of health-benefits (http://nutrition.indobase.com/articles/rye-flour-nutrition.php). Stay strong! But also, eat this bread!

This is truly all I’ll need of Les Miserables — besides the book, of course! I share many of your likes and dislikes, and in this case, I refuse to see the movie and have an irrational hatred of musicals.

Luckily there are lots of substitutes for molasses! The flavor and color will definitely change if you leave out the molasses but honey, barley malt syrup, maple syrup or golden syrup will all work as 1:1 substitutes. I’m considering using barley malt syrup with this recipe myself, just because I’m intrigued by the flavor. If you do make it let me know how it goes!

I just love every part of this post. I have a bag of rye flour in the fridge that I have got to use, and I have been wanting to read Les Mis for years! I love the play but obviously I loved it before the book, so I’m not sure how I’d feel if it were the other way around. I haven’t seen the movie yet… not sure I want to.

Oh I am so happy to hear all of this, Becca! Les Mis is certainly a huge undertaking as far as books go, but it’s a great cozy winter read. If you make the bread please let me know how it turns out, and keep up the great work on your blog!

Beautiful photos, great-looking recipe. I had the much the same reaction to Les Mis (the book) when I read it as a teen, too. But what will stick with me the most from this post is the vision of Julia’s music box. Brilliant!

Just came across your blog, and it’s wonderful! I did something similar for a while (novelbite.com), but haven’t been able to keep up. So glad to see another eater/reader/writer take on the topic of food and literature. And so beautifully!

Laura, so wonderful to hear from you, I just checked out novelbite–such amazing work! I am so happy to meet (or sort of meet) someone who shares this dual passion. Please stay in touch, and I’ll be checking to see if novelbite gets any new updates!

I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear that, Mia! I wish I could be in everyone’s kitchen when they try a recipe that I post just to make sure that it turns out well. I bet it was so amazing paired with your chowder, that sounds like a fantastic combo.

I just made this bread for the second time and I love it. I am always happy to find recipes that make only one loaf. This is a lovely, dense, rye bread with a nice texture and taste. It goes well with a nice bowl of hearty bean soup, but also works well with herbed ricotta spread, cheese, and marmalade. The two long rises allow for time to do other things before it has to be baked.